


Whispers the Wind

by LadyLondonderry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Historical, Fae Magic, Kidnapping, M/M, Muteness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-05-28 16:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6337540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLondonderry/pseuds/LadyLondonderry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Living in a small village in Ireland in the late 1800's is a little difficult when you're not Irish. Louis and Zayn have spent much of their lives sequestered in their little cottage on the edge of town with their printing press and sheep, only going into town really to buy and sell, and to flirt with the owner of the local pub.</p><p>Then one night Niall shows up. His ears are pointy and his feet don't often touch the ground.</p><p>Suddenly Louis finds himself thrown into an odd life that he never would have imagined living. Including a prince or two, flying horses, and a boy landing on his doorstep who can't even say his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is my baby, I started writing the outline over a year ago and did way more research than necessary into the history of Ireland, especially considering about halfway through this fic I think I just abandoned everything I learned. Oops.

Nobody told Louis not to talk to the fae.

Then again, the first time he runs into one, he's pissed off his arse, so maybe he wouldn't have listened anyway.

It certainly seems late as Louis ambles down the dirt road, swaying a bit because Liam, LOVELY Liam, had snuck him a few extra pints on the house.

The stars above him shine bright, and a silence has fallen around him since he turned off the last road, broken once in a while by the sounds of an owl or small animal in the undergrowth.

He hums a tune to himself as he walks, admittedly it's a little out of tune and more than half the lyrics have been forgotten in his current state, but it makes him think of home and he's quite the sappy drunk sometimes. 

Maybe he isn't really looking where he's going, but he doesn't really expect anyone out here this late at night, so when he runs into a body which knocks him to the ground (not difficult at this point, he's already tripped over his own feet a few times). He takes a few minutes to blink languidly and try to focus on his surroundings, specifically, the person in front of him.

The person in front of him - or are there two? - looks about his own age. Light blond hair sticking up, brown at the roots. He's got a grin on and leans down, stretching out a hand to Louis. "Y'all right, mate?"

Louis wonders if he really wants helped off the ground. After all, the ground is pretty comfortable, and he's less likely to fall down again later if he doesn't bother to get up again now.

"M'fine," he slurs, waving off the hand offered to him. "S'just as nice down here as it is up there." He smiles and closes his eyes. There have been much less comfortable surfaces he's found himself sleeping on.

The man in front of him laughs, he CACKLES, and plops down next to Louis on the ground, legs crossed. "Yer pissed, mate. You know that?"

Louis giggles. "Your hair's two different colours, you know that?"

The man runs his fingers through his fringe. "Oh yeah, I see what you mean," and shakes out his quiff before re-styling it with his fingers and a bit of spit.

Louis frowns. The man's hair is all blond now. That's odd. He considers asking about it, but instead goes for the more important information. "Your ears look funny."

The man eyes him. "You're one to talk, you couldn't touch your hands to your ears if you tried."

Louis doesn't try. "Why're they pointy?"

"Because my parents' ears were pointy?"

"Is it an Irish thing?"

The man laughs. "Yeah, you could say that."

Louis nods, satisfied with the answer. He feels sleepy, and figures since Zayn will walk by later and make sure Louis gets home before dawn, now would be a good time for a nap.

"Do you normally sleep in the middle of the road?"

'Oh yeah, that guy. Why is he here again?' "Why are you here again?"

The man shrugs, eyes bright and laughter constant. 'Nobody has the right to be so damn happy all the time', Louis thinks. 

"Dunno mate, maybe I just get entertained by drunks on the road. Need a hand getting home, by any chance?"

Louis flaps his hand at him. "Nah, m'friend Zayn will come by at some point. Zayn's the best, he's the reason I keep getting plastered, makin' me go to the bar with him all the time."

"Ah," says the man, "he spends his nights getting pissed too, then?"

"No, that's my job," Louis says, like it's the most logical thing for him to do. 

"Your job?"

"Zayn's only good at flirting when he's sober. S'what he always says."

"So he's in love, then."

Louis nods, still lying in the road, getting dirt worked into his hair with the movement. "Head over fucking heels, mate."

The man laughs, "So he brings you to the pub to drink yourself stupid so that he can spend the night with his crush?"

Louis giggles. "Pretty much."

The man sitting with him stands up so fast that Louis gets secondhand dizziness. Or maybe that's just the alcohol. "Well then, since your friend feels the need to leave you all alone in the streets, I feel the least I can do is give you a lift home."

Louis tries to argue, but he gets tongue tied in trying to figure out whether to argue that Zayn's a good guy, no really, or argue that he can get home on his own just fine, thank you very much. Before he can force coherency out of his mouth, though, he finds himself hoisted onto the stranger's back. He squeaks, scrabbling to get a steady hold and protesting animatedly, which is met with only laughs from the man, who seems to be able to hold him like he's nothing. 

"Just point out when I get to your house, mate. I know it must be somewhere down this street." The man's got his arms hooked under Louis' legs, piggybacking him now, and he starts humming as they move forward.

Louis still objects to being picked up like a sack of potatoes, but he's finding the ride not too uncomfortable, and he still feels sleep heavy on his eyes, so he mumbles, "and to whom to I owe my thanks for this luxurious carriage ride?"

"Call me Niall," the man says over his shoulder. "And you're Louis, right?"

"How'd you know?"

"There's only so many people in this little village not from Ireland, you do sort of stick out like a sore thumb with that accent."

Louis pouts. "I've got the most melodious voice in the village, that's not my fault."

"'Course it's not," Niall agrees. "I'm a fan. Most people don't tend to hold a conversation with me for this long, so as far as I'm concerned, you've got the most beautiful voice in the village."

Louis decides that he's too drunk to try to figure out whatever Niall is trying to say, but he finds he doesn't have to because now Niall is saying, "This is where you live, innit?"

He looks up to find that Niall is now standing the two of them in front of the little shack of the cottage that he and Zayn share. He makes a noise of affirmation and then tries to wrap himself tighter around Niall, because Niall is his NEW FRIEND and also WARM.

"Yer my new friend, Niall."

Niall laughs. "Thanks, mate. Back atcha."

"And you're warm."

He laughs harder at that. "Innit." He shoulders open the door. "Come on, Englishman. Time for bed."

Inside the house, the room they enter is cosy. There's a few plush chairs, a table with stools, a black stove in the corner and a fireplace long gone dark. At the far end of the room near the door out back is the pride and joy of Zayn's existence - his printing press and inks. Louis feels warm pride showing off his home to this stranger. Still piggybacking Niall, he motions to one of the two doors that don't lead back outside. Niall takes him through to the smaller room and dumps him on the bed inside. Louis can’t be arsed to rearrange himself from the position Niall dropped him in, which Niall finds extremely funny (does Niall find everything extremely funny?), graciously rearranges him so he doesn't so much resemble a forgotten rag doll, and covers him with a blanket.

"Thanks, warm new friend," Louis slurs.

"Anytime, tiny Englishman."

Louis wants to protest at the comment about his size, but sleep weighs on him heavily and he finds that the bed is actually much softer than the ground, and the next thing he knows is the warm cloud of sleep rolling over him.

-

He wakes up to a pounding headache and sunshine berating his closed eyes.

"Zaaaaayn," Louis groans. "Th' fuck 're you doing? Close th' fuckin' curtain, yeah?"

He can hear Zayn moving about the room (probably opening the curtains _further_ , the fucker) as he attempts to get his whole body beneath the duvet, fleeing from the harsh light.

"Come on, Lou," Zayn says and dear Lord, sound hurts as much as light. "The sheep need to be moved to a fresh pasture, you should have been up hours ago."

"Easy for you to say," Louis mumbles, massaging his throbbing temples and curling underneath the covers. "You're not the one who got shit-faced drunk last night. Go move my sheep for me."

"Sheep aren't like chickens, which, thank me because I _did_ feed them for you. The sheep don't trust me like you trust you. Go move them before they starve to death." Louis can feel Zayn trying to tug the blanket off of him and _hell no_ , that's not okay.

"Don't you fuckin' dare," he growls. "I'll go move the horrible little fluff clouds, but only if you make me eggs first. I need hangover food, Zaynie. Appease me."

Zayn lets go of the blanket and even with his eyes closed Louis can practically feel Zayn rolling his eyes from across the room. "Fine," Zayn says, "but only because I love you."

"Don't let Liam hear you say that, wouldn't want all that senseless flirting to go to waste."

"Fuck off." Zayn's footsteps echo as he leaves the room. Louis groans and wishes that sheep weren't such terribly dependent creatures. It'd be so nice to have a lie-in once in a while.

He manage to rise from the blanket cocoon he's created about ten minutes later when the smell of fried eggs wafts into the room. He mumbles something to Zayn about being sent from heaven before he devours them, relishing the fact that even though Zayn wouldn't in a million years eat anything with bacon fat in it, he still knows that dirty eggs are Louis' favourite breakfast food and would never begrudge him such a simple pleasure. 

Louis will be so sad when Liam finally realises how hard Zayn is trying to flirt with him and absconds with him.

"Well," he says, "I'm going to go find the creatures that truly appreciate me for who I am."

"I resent being referred to as a creature," Zayn deadpans.

Louis fakes throwing his fork at Zayn. "I meant my sheep, you arse. Clearly they are good judges of character, since they love me so much more than you."

Zayn rolls his eyes. "Is this you asking me to stop making you perfect hangover breakfasts? Because I will, if that's what you truly want."

Louis sticks out his tongue at Zayn as he walks past (or shuffles, really), and out the back door. The paddock behind their house is all soft green grass under his feet and blue skies above him (that make his eyes hurt and his head hurt worse). It's a perfect day and stupid Zayn and stupid Liam have stopped him from appreciating it with his stupid hangover.

His sheep are just over the first hill, grouped loosely together, and he faceplants into the biggest one - Stan, he's named it - because even though they sort of smell like shit, the fluff in their fur is enough to calm any headache.

"I'm starting to think you're just as weird drunk as you are sober, mate."

Louis' head snaps up - ouch, sunlight - at the sound of a voice that is oddly familiar and should not be existing in his field. He glances around at empty rolling green until his eyes rest on a boy right in the middle of his flock.

Sitting on one of his sheep.

Louis is stunned for a moment and then, "Get off my sheep!"

The boy - what was his name again? - breaks into a grin. He's sitting cross legged on the back of a sheep that _might_ be Lux (sheep look similar, okay?), and the sheep looks completely unbothered but the boy must be pretty heavy, he looks taller than Louis at least.

"She doesn't mind," the boy says. "Seems to prefer me to tiny Englishmen who like to fall on their sheep."

"I didn't _fall on my sheep_ ," Louis screeches. "He just looked cold! I was giving him a hug!"

The boy cackles - Niall, Louis remembers. Only a name like Niall can have a cackle like that. "Yeah mate, what is it, like, May? That's when my sheep are coldest too."

"You don't own sheep," Louis scoffs.

Niall nods. "You're right. Good catch. That is by far the only flaw in your argument."

Louis side eyes him. "Well, if you'll excuse me, Niall, I have a pasture to take my sheep to." He gets up, starts trying to round up his sheep to take them to, quite literally, greener pastures.

"Aw," Niall pouts. "I liked the name you had for me last night better. What was it, Warm New Friend?"

Louis groans. "Everything I say when I'm drunk cannot be held against me." He shoos his sheep ahead of him, and they slowly begin to move. Even though they love him, Louis' sheep are mighty stubborn. "Now come on, Irishman, get off my sheep."

Niall grins. "I am off!"

He's not. Louis can see that he's not. But then Lux moves, and Niall is still there, sitting cross legged, in the air above where Lux had been moments before.

Louis gapes at him. Niall reclines like he's royalty or some shit, waiting for someone to feed him grapes.

Louis thinks maybe he's still drunk. But if he were still drunk, he wouldn't have this horrible hangover, so there must be something else going on here. Determined to figure out what it is, he walks up to Niall - not breaking eye contact - reaches up a hand, and _shoves_ him as hard as he can.

Niall does a sort of somersault in mid-air. Clearly, he's tangible. Also clearly, he's floating. Louis takes a moment to dwell on these facts. "I don't think you're human," he finally declares.

Niall takes a moment to reflect on this bit of information. "I think you're right," he says as if this is a new revelation.

“Fuck off,” Louis says. “What are you then? Should I be afraid of you?”

“Were you afraid of me before?” Niall asks. “When I was carrying you home piss drunk? You definitely weren’t afraid of me when you were trying to get me to cuddle up to you while you slept.”

“Again,” Louis clarifies. “Anything I say and do while drunk should not be held against me.”

Niall shrugs. “I think I’m pretty harmless, really.” He floats himself over to Stan, who eyes him for a moment and then goes back to grass munching. “These guys do too, see? Aren’t sheep a good judge of character or something?”

Well, Louis can’t really disagree with that. “Okay… I mean they’re dumb animals and I think all that stuff about being good judges of character is probably bull because last week Oli walked straight into a swamp but, you know, whatever.” He goes to herd his sheep over to newer, greener grass. “But sure, follow me around or whatever you’re planning on doing. Cool.”

Niall follows him and the sheep. “I dunno what you’re trying to say about me, but I feel like I should be offended. I liked drunk Louis better.”

“Drunk Louis will be back in approximately a day and a half, feel free to check in with him then.”

Niall nods. “Will do, thanks Sober Louis. I’ll see you in a day and a half maybe.”

He looks sort of sad and stops following Louis. Louis considers continuing to walk away, but he also starts feeling bad. He didn’t mean to offend Niall, really. He’s just still got a headache and it was a weird thing to be faced with in a field normally empty of all things except sheep and chickens.

“Hold on,” Louis calls back. Niall looks to him with sudden hope in his eyes. “I suppose Sober Louis can be a bit less of a cunt. Now come on, follow these sheep to greener pastures with me.”

Niall nods happily and bounds back to Louis, feet not really touching the dirt below them. “Great! Welcome back, Warm New Friend!”

“I think that was you,” Louis says, cringing. “And can you not talk so loud? If you don’t remember, I had quite a bit to drink last night and it’s taking its toll today.”

Having caught back up to Louis, Niall makes a motion of pretending to button his lips together. “Of course!” he whisper-shouts. “Do you want something to help? I’ve got some nice herbs that do well for that sort of thing.”

Louis shakes his head. “Thanks but no thanks. I’m an Englishman, we’re practical and plain and don’t like to eat leaves except in tea.”

“Suit yourself,” Niall says. “Anyway, we have more important matters to attend to. Who exactly are Zayn and Liam and why are they in love?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “You couldn’t be more nosy if you tried, could you?”

“Nope,” Niall shakes his head. “I’m interested and have nothing else to do. Please tell all.”

Louis laughs a little at that. “Fine, you oddball. But only because I also have nothing else to do.” He plops himself in the fresh grass as sheep move about around him. Niall lays down opposite him, and when he does so little groups of yellow flowers spring up around him. Louis decides not to ask.

“Zayn’s my best friend. We share that little cottage over there – you know, the one you dropped me off in last night. Anyway, we’ve been living together for a good six years or so now, and of those six I think Zayn’s been head over heels for Liam for five.”

Niall nods raptly, “Quite loyal, isn’t he?”

“Something like that. Anyway Liam’s been working at his uncle’s pub since he came into town about five years ago, and we’ve been basically spending a good half of what we earn there ever since.”

“Is it because you’re the only ones in town who aren’t Irish?” Niall asks. Well, that’s blunt.

“I mean that definitely could be a factor,” Louis says. He plucks one of the flowers that grew around Niall and twirls it in his fingers. “I mean probably. It’s a bit harder to get dates when ninety percent of the village tries to avoid you.” He shrugs. “Plus, the whole loving-another-man thing. Narrows the options down a lot.”

He looks to Niall, who seems completely unfazed by that statement. “I mean, you’ve got a point there,” he says. “So does this Liam fellow return Zayn’s feelings? Is it a lost cause?”

Louis shakes his head. “Nah, they’ll get a house together someday and kick me out. Liam’s a shy one but he’s never turned down a chance to talk with Zayn or get him a free drink. Which I drink.”

“What a kind friend you are,” Niall concedes.

“I certainly am,” Louis says. His sheep bleat at him. 

They’re silent for a while. That’s how Louis spends most of his time. Being out in the fields with sheep during the day means he doesn’t have a lot of company, what with Zayn being inside working on his printing press. It’s true, there’s really not too many people in the village who are willing to talk to them. 

They’ve always been a little pressed about outsiders, a little suspicious about people who are different. Louis understands, he really does. This little area of Ireland doesn’t get a lot of foot traffic, and most people can trace their families back generations. It’s really just himself and Zayn who are the odd ones out, both accidents who ended up with no way out and so clung to each other instead. Them, and Liam to an extent. His father’s from the village, but his mother was a member of a merchant ship, or so he says, and so he’s a bit of here and a bit of there. People in the village tend to accept him because of his father and the pub that’s been there all their lives, but Liam clearly has a heart for strangers, the way he always looks out for Louis and Zayn.

“Hold on,” Louis says after a fair amount of reflection. “This village is tiny. How have I never seen you before? Where are you from?”

Niall might have been asleep in the grass at this point, but he opens his eyes when Louis starts speaking. “What makes you think you haven’t seen me before?” he asks.

“I’d remember those ears, probably,” Louis says. He feels a little compelled to flick them, but refrains. That’s just polite, after all.

“What if I didn’t have the ears?” Niall asks, and suddenly he doesn’t. His ears are rounded just like anybody else’s.

Louis does reach out and flick them now. He should probably be fazed by the fact that Niall just apparently managed to change a physical characteristic, which can’t be normal, but he’s feeling bold and dumb.

“Ouch!” Niall puts his hand to his ear and it’s pointy again. “That’s really rude! Did anyone ever teach you not to be rude?” He clearly isn’t truly offended though.

“Suppose not,” Louis says. “Still haven’t answered my question though.”

Niall shrugs, laying back down in the grass and rubbing his ear a little. “We’re good at going unnoticed, I guess. You know how this place is about strangers. They don’t welcome me much more than they do you.”

“That seems hard to believe,” Louis says. “You’ve got a much more convincing accent than I do.”

Niall cackles at that. “It’s a bit more than that, but thank you, I try.”

They continue like that for the rest of the day, conversations drifting in and out, permeated by bouts of silence and at one point a break for lunch.

“Zayn packed me eggs,” Louis says when he pulls out a flask and pouch from his pocket. “Boiled ones, you know. It’s about ninety percent of what we produce, so we eat a lot of them.”

He offers one to Niall, who declines politely. “That stuff takes like shit, mate.” 

Louis shrugs. “Suit yourself. There’s not much better than a good boiled egg though.”

“I more than disagree,” Niall says. “But something tells me we don’t have the same sense of taste.”

Their conversations become more pointless and meaningless as the day turns to dusk, the sun going down and a chill setting in. The sheep don’t mind too much, it’s been a while since they were last sheared, but Louis is ready to head in. Zayn’s definitely got wood in the furnace by now.

“I’m heading in,” he announces to Niall. “As you’ve declined to tell me anything at all about yourself, I’m going to assume that you’re homeless and in need of shelter. Want to come in for a bite?”

“Is it eggs?” Niall asks.

“Of course it is,” Louis affirms. “But we have cabbage too. And I think we picked some carrots earlier this week that would still be good!”

“I think I’ll pass,” Niall says. He stands up and helps Louis up after him. “And for the record I’m definitely not homeless. Just starved for good company once in a while.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Louis says. He whistles to the sheep, most of whom respond and start ambling toward him. In the back, he can see a couple of them being rude little shits and ignoring them, but he’s sure they’ll follow when they get lonely.

“I suppose I’ll see you some other time then,” Louis tells him. 

“Of course you will,” Niall says. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

He jumps up, much higher than someone should be able to jump, and then he’s just not there anymore.

Louis thinks he may have gone insane. He doesn’t like the idea of being insane. He makes a note to ask Zayn when he gets home.


	2. Chapter 2

“Zaaaaaayn,” Louis calls when he get inside the house. He doesn’t need to call. Zayn is right in front of him. It is, after all, a very small house.

“Shush Lou, you’re disturbing the ink,” Zayn says, not looking up from the book pages he’s carefully binding together. 

“I don’t think that’s a thing, Zayn, and anyway this is much more important!” Louis waits until his sits back from his book, and cups Zayn’s face in his hands. “Am I crazy?”

“I didn’t think so until you started assaulting my cheeks,” Zayn drawls.

“No really, Zaynie, am I insane? Have I ever shown signs of insanity?”

“Not up until this moment, no.”

Louis groans and flops into the chair next to him. “That’s not helping! I think I might have gone insane today, Zayn. Try to take this seriously.”

“Alright, tell me more. Why are you insane? You were perfectly normal with a bit of a headache this morning.”

“Because I met someone, and then he… disappeared.” Louis says, drawing it down dramatically.

“Were you still drinking?”

“I- no! Don’t be ridiculous! I mean, I had some beer at lunch, but only half a flask worth.”

“Alright, tell me more then. Exactly how did this person disappear?”

“Into thin air! We were talking, just hanging out and stuff, and when I said I was going home, he said goodbye and got up and then he was just gone!!”

Okay, it all sounds a lot crazier now that Louis is no longer around Niall. It seemed at least sort of normal an hour ago. He thinks over the events to look for more clues. “And his ears changed!”

Zayn, to his credit, is actually looking a little concerned for Louis at this point. “Okay… Changed how?”

“Like… I dunno, they were pointy on the ends, and then he did something and they looked all normal!”

“Pointy? Like at the top?”

“Yeah! Have you seen him too? Because that would make me feel a hell of a lot better.”

“No, I haven’t. Hold on…” he gets up and starts rifling through the small stack of his personal books, mostly ones that he messed up printing the original copies of. “Have you really never heard of these guys? Do you not listen when people in the village talk?”

“You know I don’t, I don’t really care about what idiots have to say,” Louis says. Besides, when they’re talking around him, it’s usually in hushed voices and _about_ him, so he’s found it’s better to tune them out.

Zayn spends another minute looking through his books before pulling one out. “They’re a myth,” he says. “Not that that means they’re not real.”

He sets the book down on their table and flips through the pages desperately before finding the one he wants. “This story here,” he says, pointing to a page.

“Thanks a fuck tonne,” Louis deadpans. “Pointing to this page of words has been so enlightening. I now know everything and am definitely no longer crazy.” 

“Oh fuck off,” Zayn says. “I was getting there. It’s a story about the fae. They’re like the Irish version of fairies?”

“Fairies are tiny,” Louis says. “And they’ve got wings and stuff, I’m pretty sure.”

“Maybe in England they do,” Zayn says. “In Ireland they’re a bit more impressive. And they can have wings, they just have the ability to hide them. But they’ve definitely got the pointy ears thing going on.”

“What, so I’ve made friends with a fairy? That’s dumb,” Louis says. “Fairies are little girly things that my sisters liked to talk about. Niall’s, like, a man.”

“Pretty sure they’d come in both genders,” Zayn continues patiently. “But they’re really good at trickster magic, so changing appearance should probably be no problem for them. Would explain the disappearing thing too. The villagers hate them, they gossip about them all the time, everything they suspect the fae of having done.”

“Like what, sit on their sheep? Because that’s all Niall really did.”

“Well sounds like Niall likes you then. They talk about them hypnotizing people, and stealing food and rearranging things in the night. Harmless stuff or not so harmless. They can get pretty nasty if provoked, according to the villagers.”

“Well so can I,” Louis puffs up his chest, not wanting to be outdone by these dumb little fairies. “I met Niall last night, he carried me home when I passed out drunk on the road. He doesn’t seem too bad.”

Zayn shrugs, closing the book. “Maybe he took a liking to you, or found you interesting because you’re not a villager. Who the fuck knows.” He puts the book back in the stack and goes to put more logs on the fire, heating the pot of water above it. “Whatever the reason, I’d count my lucky stars and try not to piss him off if I were you. They sound like they can be seriously scary if provoked.”

Louis thinks about it. Niall didn’t seem scary. But then again, he also kept that whole “air of mystery” about him and Louis didn’t even really question the pointy ears until he left. Was he under some sort of weird fairy spell? Or, fae spell, whatever. He’d ask Niall tomorrow.

Wait, why would he ask Niall? Niall wouldn’t give him a straight answer if he put a spell on him. That wouldn’t make sense.

“Do you think he put me under a spell?” Louis asks Zayn. “And that’s why I didn’t find it weird until just now?”

Zayn thinks about it for a bit while stirring the water, before shrugging. “I doubt it. You’re too stubborn for shit like that. I bet you just thought he was good friend material and chose to ignore everything else. That sounds like something you would do.”

Louis considers that. Well, he’s probably right. Louis is pretty stubborn.

-

They don’t go to the pub that night, because Zayn doesn’t want to appear _too_ desperate, you know. Plus, Louis doesn’t like to have hangovers two days in a row. It makes him grumpy, and it makes the sheep grumpy.

The next morning, Niall is out and waiting for him when Louis makes his way over to the sheep. Niall’s sitting on a log this time, not any of his precious flock, and he’s got some sort of instrument in his hand that he’s strumming absentmindedly.

“You know, you don’t own this field,” Louis informs him as he’s walking up.

Niall ignores him, continuing to play something quick and repetitive. It’s a nice tune, whatever it is.

“Zayn told me what you are,” Louis says, and this time Niall stops and looks up, a sweet smile on his face.

“And what am I then, little English friend?”

“Fuck off, I’m just as tall as you are!”

Niall laughs and stands up so they’re shoulder to shoulder. “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better.”

“I _will_ keep telling myself that because it’s the _truth_ ,” Louis huffs. “But that’s not the point, and you’re trying to distract me! Zayn says you’re a fairy!” he accuses, pointing his finger at Niall’s chest.

Niall looks down at Louis’s finger. He looks up at Louis. “A fairy?” he asks, sounding slightly offended.

“What, am I wrong?” Louis asks, faltering a little.

“I mean, calling me a fairy is a bit of an insult. Fairies are little tiny girly things, yeah?”

“That’s what I said!” Louis agrees emphatically, lowering his hand. 

Niall nods. “Yeah, there’s a reason we’re called fae over here and not fairies. Fairies are annoying little buggers, let me tell ya.”

“Wait- back up,” Louis interjects. “So you _are_ a fairy?”

Niall slaps him across the back of the head, making Louis stumble forward a little. “Fae! We’re fae! You’re bad at listening, you know that?”

“That hurt!” Louis complains, rubbing the back of his head. He turns around and tries to slap Niall back, but is neatly dodged by Niall leaping a few meters into the air. “Stop that, that’s not fair!”

“You called me a fairy!” Niall shoots back petulantly. “Learn some manners!”

Louis pouts up at Niall – still in the air – and Niall pouts back down at him.

“Fine,” Louis says eventually. “You’re a fae. Now my head hurts again and I didn’t even drink mass amounts of alcohol for it this time!”

“Aw, stop being a baby,” Niall floats back down to the ground. “I barely touched ya. It’ll be fine in a minute.” He picks up the instrument where he dropped it in the grass earlier and goes to sit back down. “Anyway, I was in the middle of a song and you interrupted.”

Louis stands and stares as Niall starts playing again, almost as if their conversation (argument?) never happened. It’s still early morning but he already dislikes the sun beating down on his back. 

“Well I’m just going to take my sheep and move along then,” he says, mostly to himself but loud enough for Niall to hear. He wants to get to a nice green area with a lot of shade to nap under. 

A few minutes into herding sheep (Oli has already gotten himself stuck in two bramblebushes, and Jeff tried to eat the lunch straight out of his pocket), Louis notices that the music from Niall doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter. In fact, it’s just as loud as if he is still right next to him.

Louis looks behind him. Niall is literally right there.

“Do you mind?” Louis asks, a little tiredly at this point.

“Not at all,” Niall says cheerfully, still strumming. “Would you like to pick the next song?”

“Is this going to be a daily thing?” Louis asks, keeping a look out to make sure Lux doesn’t go too far toward the river.

“Nah, I like brass instruments some days too.”

Louis sighs a very put-upon sigh. But he’s not really frustrated, if he’s honest. Niall’s odd but it’s nice to have the company.

“I don’t know any songs,” he informs Niall instead. “Like, I know some drinking songs but I don’t think those tend to come with musical accompaniment. 

Niall laughs. “Anything comes with musical accompaniment if you try hard enough!”

It turns out, he’s right. Louis spends a while trying to wrack his brain for every drinking song he can remember, and each time Niall comes up with a nice tune to go along with it. He explains that the instrument he has is called a guitar, and it’s all the rage where he comes from.

“Where do you come from?” Louis asks at one point.

Niall points off to his left.

Louis leaves it at that.

-

Routine is a funny thing.

Living in a little cottage in front of the rolling green hills of Ireland, it’s easy to forget that a world even exists outside of their cosy home. Zayn wakes Louis up early in the morning, and Louis moves the sheep to green pasture. He’s joined by Niall out in the fields and Niall goes on and on about anything and everything. He speaks about a sport called “golf” that Louis’s never heard of, and tells him the gossip about people that he says are “at court”. Louis doesn’t know what court this is, but that doesn’t seem to bother Niall one bit.

The days blend one into the other as spring brightens into the beginnings of summer. Louis gets dragged to the pub a few nights a week with Zayn as he swoons over Liam. Everything is very normal. 

But of course, Louis is an Englishman stranded on Irish soil. Nothing will ever stay normal for long.

-

“What are you up to tonight, little Englishman?” Niall asks one day, lounging on his back in the grass.

“I’m watching sheep.” Louis says drily. He motions to the animals around them, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Look, they’ve appeared out of nowhere! What a completely new and different thing from what I normally do!”

Niall rips up a handful of grass and throws it at him. “Wanker. Tonight, after the sun sets. We party tonight and I want you to come.”

“You party?” Louis looks over at him suspiciously. “What, like a ball? I don’t really have an outfit for one.”

Niall shakes his head. “Nah… more like a hunting party. You know, horse riding and chasing and all that. It’s tradition where I come from.”

“Can’t say I’m generally the hunting type. Why me?” Louis questions. 

Niall shrugs. “You’re my friend, aren’t ya? You don’t have to, but I figured if you’ve got nothing better to do…” he looks over at Louis with goddamn puppy eyes and how on earth could Louis say no to that?

“As soon as the sun sets, start walking west, toward that far grove over there,” Niall instructs him. “I’ll meet you there.”

“You haven’t given me a location,” Louis says, confused.

“Don’t need to, you’ll find it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Harry shows up in the next chapter, promise


	3. Chapter 3

Zayn tells Louis that he’s crazy, and that this is a massively bad idea.

Louis sort of agrees with him, if he thinks about it too much. So he doesn’t think about it too much.

After all, Niall is his friend, good friend at that. He’s happy and harmless and if he wants Louis to be there for the night, how is that any different than Zayn dragging him to the pub to try to woo Liam for the fiftieth night in a row?

He promises Zayn that he’ll be back by the morning, and Zayn tells him that he’d better be because the sheep don’t trust him like they do Louis. 

It’s when the sun is disappearing over the horizon that he steps out the back door. The last of the sunset is still lighting up the sky, immersing the landscape in the twilight world between dark and light. The sounds of the clucking hens is still heard softly from their henhouse, birds twitter in the trees nearby and the squelch of his boots in the grass muddy from an afternoon rain echo across the sleepy field. The sheep are over the hill to the east so he has nobody to say goodbye to as he sets off toward the far row of trees that Niall pointed out earlier.

Stars twinkle in the sky above by the time he reaches the trees. As he’s walked he’s had time to really consider the fact that this cluster of trees is completely unfamiliar to him. Not in that he’s never walked by these trees before, but that he’s never even _seen_ them. They’re so tall they must be positively ancient, a cluster of about five or six reaching high into the air. 

He stands in front of them admiring their sheer size, and realises that he can’t even seen through to the other side of them, between the trees an engulfing blackness.

“You’re a bit early.”

Louis turns from where he’s been admiring the treetops to see Niall himself emerging from the trees. In one hand is a lead and a horse so white Louis feels he’s positively ghostly follows behind.

“Have these always been here?” Louis asks, motioning to the trees.

“They’re here when they need to be,” Niall looks up with a serene smile on his face. He leads the horse out of the woods and Louis follows them a few metres away into the grass. 

“Everyone else will be coming shortly. Have you ridden before?” Niall asks. 

Louis shakes his head, looking up a little timidly at the horse who towers over him. “Does it bite?”

“Do you?” Niall asks, and then giggles as if it was a ridiculous thing to ask. “Good thing you’re riding with me then! Come on, I’ll help you up.”

Louis considers protesting but out of the corner of his eye he sees more people emerging from the trees behind him now, already on equally large and intimidating horses. Before he can ask Niall where to grab to hoist himself up, he finds Niall grabbing him under his armpits and simply lifting him into the air above the horse.

Shit, fuck, Niall can fucking _float_ and is _floating Louis into the air_. Louis lets out a string of curses and wriggles in his grip because _warn a guy, will ya?_ before he’s being dropped unceremoniously onto the horse. He hears Niall’s ridiculous giggles turn into a full blown cackle and wants to wipe the smirk that he knows the Irishman has right off his face.

He would, but he’s grabbing onto the flank of the horse for dear life. The ground looks very far below him.

“Budge up,” Niall tells him, and floats down to sit directly between Louis and the neck of the house, sitting with both of his legs slung over the side so he’s facing the woods. “You look petrified,” he whispers conspiratorially. “You can grab my waist, I stick to the horse like glue, trust me.”

Louis doesn’t know what glue is.

He wraps his arms around Niall anyway, scooting up until he’s able to do it while sitting comfortably upright. Niall really does feel like he wouldn’t budge for anything, it’s rather reassuring.

There’s a whole crowd now who have arrived from the woods. They’re all riding eerie white horses like Niall’s, and from what Louis can see they’ve all got the same pointed ears and blond hair.

They’re also all men, looking about the same age as Niall, until the last one emerges.

She’s got long flowing hair and a thin face. For just a moment, Louis wonders if she’s some sort of royalty the way she gracefully sits atop her horse – one more lavishly adorned than any of the others around – and smiles politely at everyone now crowded around.

That is, until she reaches Niall.

“Niall!” she shrieks, and her voice is, well, it’s a little piercing. Louis jumps - just a bit. 

Her horse canters over to Niall’s and she gives him a look. “What’s the boy doing here?” she asks. “We haven’t started the hunt yet and already you’re bringing back dessert?”

Niall rolls his eyes as Louis’s mind is racing with what exactly she means. “That’s incredibly crude,” he tells her, clearly not too fussed. “This is Louis, my _friend_ here to accompany me so that you all don’t bore me to death.”

She laughs, and it’s high and piercing and makes Louis feel a little bit like he’s been the butt of a joke, although he’s still not sure how. 

“Come along,” the girl calls to those crowded around – maybe fifteen or twenty in all. She leads them off away from the trees towards the north, the direction Louis thinks the town is in. 

“That’s me sister,” Niall tells him. His horse falls into line right behind hers and before all the others. Those behind them quietly mumble to one another if they speak at all. “Her name’s Nessa, although I wouldn’t try to talk to her. She’s a little… feisty.”

“She seems like a bitch,” Louis whispers back, startling Niall into laughter.

“Well, I can’t really disagree, although I think I should be fighting for her honour or something. She could do that herself if she really wanted to though, I’ll leave her to fight her own battles.”

As they progress over the pastures, the horses steadily speed up, Louis doesn’t even notice at first, but it becomes apparent when the wind starts whipping the longer strands of his hair into his eyes.

The group behind him, once solemn looking and muttering to one another, are growing louder in their antics, breaking out into full bodied laughter and excited chatter, their accents so thick that Louis can barely understand much of what they’re saying.

“That’s the court,” Niall tells him, answering Louis’s silent question. They’re racing over the fields now, but Niall is still sat calmly sidesaddle (although without a saddle to speak of), perched as if he hasn’t a care in the world. 

“The court? The ones you gossip about incessantly?”

“Yep, those’re the ones, although I wouldn’t say that too loudly. They gossip all hours of the day, but the second someone hears about something getting said behind their backs, huge fights break out. Me da got exiled for a couple months a while back for telling his brother that me ma was growing a bit pudgy.”

He waits for Louis’s laughter to settle down, grinning widely. “They’re not the whole court, of course, only the ones in need of some, let’s say, companionship.”

“What, they’re hunting to impress women?” Louis asks, hugging tighter to Niall’s middle as the horses’ leaps get longer and higher. It’s almost as if their hooves aren’t touching the ground any more.

“You could say that,” Niall says. “That’s what they’d like to think of it as, at least. But nah, more like they’re hunting _for_ women.”

Louis lets the statement sink in. “So… they’re kidnapping?”

Niall’s answer – whatever it would have been – is drowned out, as the next moment the sound of a hunting horn pierces the air. Louis’s head snaps up and he sees Nessa replacing a large golden horn back in the pouch at her horse’s side. “Go forth and bring back plenty,” she shouts back, and raucous cheers return from the men behind them. Niall seems rather passive about the whole thing, although his fist pumps the air in return to her call. 

They’re definitely not on the ground any more, Louis realises with delight and horror, as they are now galloping over rooftops of the village – is this even their village? – and one by one everyone is spreading out.

It all feels a bit hectic and Louis is trying to determine if he knows where they are, or if they’ve hit another village entirely, when a whoop goes up behind them and he looks behind to see one man on a steed swoop down straight into a small cottage, ghosting through the roof like a midnight dream.

He emerges only moments later to applause and catcalls from everyone else, and Louis is shocked to see that he’s no longer alone on the horse. There’s a girl with him, her arms thrown around his middle just as Louis’s are around Niall. She’s got a mess of brown hair and looks to be in a nightgown. She clearly cares not for her scandalous appearance though, emitting a shriek of delight (Louis only knows it’s delight because there’s a great smile on her face), and planting a kiss on the man’s cheek.

“Do they know each other?” Louis shouts to Niall over the roaring wind.

“They do now!” Niall shouts back. “It’s how my people get their wives, you know. The girls are always happy to come, we pick the poorer ones who know they’ll have a better life with us.”

“But they don’t even _know_ you!” Louis shouts back. Oh, how he wishes they were on the ground so that they wouldn’t have to shout to one another and he could get his questions answered faster. “Wait, why am I sharing your horse though? Am I supposed to be the girl you’re stealing away?”

He should have expected the peal of laughter from Niall. “I’m flattered, Englishman, but you’re not my type.” He makes obscene squeezing motions at his chest and waggles his eyebrows at Louis. “I’ve got a girl back home, actually. Been engaged to one another for a couple centuries at least.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“Because the prince always has to attend these stupid hunts!” Niall shouts. “Plus, someone has to keep an eye on my forsaken sister, who knows what she would get up to. She wants to get herself a husband this way, instead of the suitor who’s been attempting to court her for the last decade.” 

Louis fishmouths. He’d be gawking over the idea of Niall’s sister trying to steal herself a husband if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s gawking over the fact that _Niall just declared himself a prince_.

“Prince of _what_?” he splutters out.

Niall raises his eyebrows. “The fae?” he says a little questioningly. “You remember – the ears?”

He wiggles the ear visible to Louis.

“Right- yeah.” Louis says, a little faintly. “I’m on a horse flying through the air with someone who should have fallen off long ago because _for Christssake who rides a horse like that?_ I don’t know why you being a prince would surprise me. Of course not.”

Niall laughs, his cackle escaping in the wind. “Now you’re getting it!” he shouts. 

They fly over the country side, leaving the village where the first girl had been picked up. She’s cuddled up happily to her apparent future husband, giggling and chatting animatedly from what Louis can see. 

Over the next smattering of cottages, two men pick up women, both of them seeming deliriously happy as they cling to their riders. Whenever someone new is added to their group, it seems people become more rambunctious. At some point Louis glances back and sees that they’ve broken out flasks and are becoming merrier by the moment. He’d be afraid of them falling if it weren’t for the fact that they’re, well, fae.

“Can fae get drunk?” Louis questions. They’ve slowed down enough over this latest town that he doesn’t have to shout.

“Of course we can,” Niall tells him, scandalized. “And if you’re wondering, yes at least one or two people fall off their horses every year. It’s more because they want to than because they can’t hang on though, they’re a little dumb like that.”

“Glad you see they’re dumb too,” Louis says. He’s gotten drunk before, but admittedly never while riding a horse. Flying through the sky. 

“Want some?”

He looks up in time to see Niall offering him a flask. 

“No, I don’t actually want to die tonight,” Louis tells him.

“Good thought,” Niall nods and throws the flask at a nearby rider, who catches it with a cheer and swigs it down. “And a word of advice – never accept food from fae beside me. Can’t trust ‘em.”

Louis snorts. “I can’t trust you either, can I?”

“Of course you can!” Niall shouts as the wind starts to rise again. “I’m hurt! What makes you think otherwise?”

“You sit on my sheep,” Louis tells him. “Can’t trust a lad who sits on sheep.”

Niall cackles, he cackles at everything. But tonight, with the wind whipping around them and the countryside speeding by below them, Louis can’t really find it in himself to mind. Anything seems possible on a night like tonight.

-

They pass the night with bits of chatter and minutes of silence as they travel over what Louis thinks must be all of Ireland. Eventually everyone in their group save Nessa has picked up a girl.

“Is she really going to pick up a guy?” Louis whispers to Niall. He’s tired and it feels like the sun is going to rise soon.

Niall makes an unsure hand motion. “Maybe. She’s swooped on a couple houses now and come back empty handed. She’s so picky and guys aren’t usually all keen on us the way maidens are, you know? Girls see us as saving them from a boring life of being a wife to a farmer, but guys tend to think of it more as kidnapping…” he shrugs. “It’s why most of our girls tend to marry other fae. Pretty much all of our girls, actually. I think there’s something wrong with Nessa, if I’m honest. She might have been dropped on her head as a child.”

“And how long ago was she a child?” Louis asks, having started to catch on to fae terminology.

“About four centuries?” Niall cocks his head. “Our time doesn’t quite work the way yours does. I’m older though, I know that.”

A whoop goes up from a few of the riders who have gone up to join Nessa, and suddenly she’s swooping low, disappearing below them.

It’s a large castle, a little overgrown but clearly still mighty and formidable. Louis has no idea where they are, has stopped even attempting to keep track, but even he knows that this is where royalty would live.

“Expensive tastes,” he whispers to Niall, who holds back a giggle.

They circle the castle for a couple of minutes – longer than for anyone else – and Louis starts to wonder if maybe she got stuck somewhere.

He knows she’s finally made it out when a triumphant cry comes from everyone around them, louder than the responses to anyone else. 

“Aw shit she’s actually got someone,” Niall mutters as Nessa’s horse gallops upward out of the castle once again. She’s going fast, and everyone else has to speed to keep up. Looking behind him, Louis can see why. Candles are being lit all over the castle, and people seem to be spilling out onto the rooftops. It certainly wasn’t a seamless heist.

“We try to keep to people whose life will be improved by joining us,” Niall says under his breath to Louis as he urges his horse forward, past the others to try to catch up with Nessa. “Count on my dumb sister to screw absolutely everything up. If she’s stolen visiting royalty – or _Irish_ royalty – I’m going to be furious.”

Louis grips tighter to Niall’s middle, feeling for the first time all night like he’s in a real danger of falling off.

The first difference that he notices as they approach is that while the girls that the other rides picked up cling to their men, whomever is on Nessa’s horse is being held tight by Nessa. Louis has to double check that it is a guy – his hair long and whipping in the wind – and he’s hugging the horse’s neck tightly. It almost seems like he’s trying to strain _away_ from Nessa’s touch.

No, scratch that. She goes to move the hair whipping around his face away from his eyes and he visibly flinches, so much that even Louis can tell from a distance. 

“Nessa!” Niall calls as they draw close. She looks up, a grin plastered on her face that doesn’t at all match the manic expression on the boy in her arms. 

“Niall!” she calls back happily. “We’re headed home to celebrate!” She whoops and everyone around them returns the call. Niall looks on without smiling, and Louis does the same. He prays that the boy looks up, hopes that maybe he can ease the fear somewhat. He’s not sure exactly how – he doesn’t know the boy and can’t offer him a ride back home – but he desperately wants to offer _something_.

“Well, what’s his name then?” Niall asks, giving the boy a sympathetic glance.

“Mmmm dunno,” she looks down at the boy in her arms who clearly doesn’t want to be there. He looks to be Louis’s own age, maybe a bit younger. Too young for this centuries old woman, Louis thinks to herself.

He vaguely registers Nessa asking the boy what his name is, and his refusal to even acknowledge her. It upsets him; this boy clearly doesn’t want any part of this. The other girls who were picked up are all here willingly but the boy looks more frantic by the minute, like a caged animal. Despite how far they are above the ground, he looks like he’s weakly struggling to escape Nessa’s hold. 

“Niall, I don’t like this,” Louis says under his breath. 

Niall nods. “I don’t either. She’s clearly tried to put a glamour on him that he’s wholeheartedly rejecting. He doesn’t want to be here, and it doesn’t sit well with me.”

“Well can you do anything?” Louis asks, his voice rising in pitch. 

Niall looks to Nessa in front of them, then down at the rushing countryside below them. “We’re near your home,” he says. “We’re almost back.”

“Alright, so that means we don’t have much time?”

Niall nods. “Once we get to the court he’s as good as gone. I don’t know much of anyone who’s left.” He seems to study the countryside for a moment more. “It’ll be really dumb to do something, though. That’s practically like declaring war on Nessa.”

“Well I’ve got the prince on my side, haven’t I?” Louis argues.

Niall grins. “That you do. I’m going to get up next to her. When you get the chance, grab him and jump. I’ll make sure you get down safely.”

Louis nods, determined. He’s still a little sure this’ll end in both of them dying, but he’s always had a bit of a mad streak, and now’s as good a time as any for it to come out.

It feels like an eternity as Niall’s horse races to catch up with Nessa, although in reality it’s probably only a couple minutes. Louis watches the boy, and although he can see little through the whipping wind and the movement of the horses, it seems like the boy is still cringing away from Nessa’s grip; Louis wouldn’t doubt if the boy tried to jump of his own accord.

“Go!” Niall mutters urgently in his ear, and it feels too soon but Louis unsnakes his arms from around Niall’s waist and judges the distance between him and the boy – now extremely close, although he’s facing the other way. It’s not far; one leap with a bit of a push from Niall and – 

Louis scrambles, desperate to get a hold of _anything_ as he lands on both the boy and Nessa. He wraps his arms around what he assumes to be the boy’s waist and prays that he’s able to drag him off and Niall can get them down safely.

Niall must have done something, he thinks, as he feels Nessa pulled from them and her screeching fill the air. Louis has his arms around the boy from behind and he can tell that the boy is wrenching back and forth trying to see what has latched on to him, but at the same time any movement feels like it would knock them both off so- 

Oh, right. That’s what he wants to happen. 

Louis pushes his feet with all his might against the flank of the horse and, without Nessa there to steady them, throws them both careening into the air below them. He screams and the boy does too, but he doesn’t dare let go of the boy he’s holding onto. He closes his eyes and prays that nothing has gone wrong with Niall but anticipates the rough, jarring impact of the ground that from that height and speed should break all sorts of bones.

It doesn’t come.

He lands in the grass as if he’s just tripped while walking home inebriated again, although a minute later another body lands on top of him with an _oof_ that normally doesn’t happen during his drinking sessions.

A string of curses is screamed above them, and Louis looks up to see the whole of the hunting party circling where they’ve landed which is – his own house! Niall’s good.

Nessa’s screaming a mile a minute and Louis isn’t at all too sure what she’s saying but at the same time Niall - holding Nessa up by her wrists – is yelling at him to get inside immediately.

So he grabs the boy above him and hauls him up, but even as he’s dragging him into the door, the boy gasps and curls over, and suddenly Nessa up in the air is shrieking not in anger but in conquest.

“That’s what you get for trying to run!” she calls, even as Louis is trying to get the boy inside as Niall told him, because what else can he do? “You’ve taken what’s mine, Englishman! But you won’t have all of it!”

Englishman coming from Niall’s lips is a compliment; from Nessa’s it’s a dirty curse.

He drags the boy in and shuts the door with a bang, drowning out all of the hooves and the yelling voices and dumping them into eerie quiet. 

“Zayn!” Louis yells. “Zayn, get out here! I need you!”

The boy, having fallen when the door shut behind them, is sprawled out on front of him, breathing heavily, hair strewn about and a tangle of arms and legs. Zayn saunters into the room, not nearly as fast as Louis would have liked, and stops short at seeing the boy.

“What have you done?” He asks, shocked.

“I stopped a kidnapping, that’s what I did!” Louis shouts. He bends down over the boy and gently shakes his shoulder. The boy jolts and cowers, curling onto his stomach, his hair blocking any view he must otherwise have.

“Hey…” Louis says softly, getting down on the boy’s level. “Are you okay? Where are you hurt?”

The boy doesn’t respond to anything he says, so Louis scoots a little closer, reaching out one tentative hand across the floor, trying to show the boy that he only wants to offer a comforting touch.

When it reaches the boy’s line of sight, he jumps up onto his arse and scurries backward until his back hits the wall next to the door. The way he jolts at first surprises Louis into jumping backward too, on the opposite direction, and in the silence a moment later they’re sat staring at each other.

Louis puts his hands up, trying to convey that he means no harm, but the look in the boy’s eyes is still crazed, eyes wide, darting between Louis and a spot behind him, which he belatedly realises must be where Zayn’s standing.

“Are you…” Louis tries again. “Can you tell me what your name is?”

Still the boy says nothing, although he seems to look more upset, like he’s about to burst into tears.

This is going really badly. Maybe the boy is a foreigner? Speaks French or Spanish or something from the continent? 

“Louis…” Zayn speaks up and Louis swivels around to face him. “Did you hear him say anything while you were out there?”

Louis shakes his head, aware that he’s awkwardly talking about the boy right in front of his face. “I was too far away, couldn’t hear much of anything.”

“I don’t think,” Zayn seems to be studying the boy. “I don’t think he can hear us. Like, at all.”

He squats down next to Louis and makes eye contact with the boy, slowly pointing to his own ear and mouthing something. 

The boy stares at him too and Louis thinks that he won’t get a response either, but then the boy jerkily shakes his head. Zayn sits back with a frown.

“He’s deaf,” he states.

“ _What_?” Louis shrieks. “Was he before? What do we do now?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Zayn asks calmly. Louis thinks normally he’d be getting a brotherly slap in the face at this point but Zayn is trying not to scare the boy in front of them. “Go ask your fae friend, yeah? I assume he’s the one who got you into this.”

That gets Louis’s mind whirring in a million different directions. Niall will know what to do, right? Shit, he’d _better_ know what to do, Louis definitely doesn’t! But he doesn’t think he can just got find him right at this moment; Louis is pretty certain he made quite a scene and shouldn’t be in Nessa’s line of sight any time soon. So… does that mean he just waits until Niall comes to him?

In the meantime, either way there is a very scared boy in the room in front of them. He’s dragged his knees up to his chest and is still staring at them intently, although it looks like the initial shock of the situation is wearing off. 

Louis looks up in surprise when Zayn walks past him, not having realised that Zayn had left in the first place, and bends down to hand the boy a cup of water from the jug in the kitchen. The boy takes it with trembling hands and sniffs it before chugging it down greedily. When he’s done, Zayn takes the cup back and the boy doesn’t look so terrified anymore, just wary. It’s a nice change and Louis feels a pang of jealousy in his heart that he wasn’t the one to make that change.

“He should sleep,” Zayn says. “We should all sleep. It’ll be dawn soon.”

Louis’s never been good at knowing what hour it is so he takes Zayn’s word for it. How does he tell the boy though? He gets up and pads over to the bedroom, opening the creaky door and motioning inside. The boy stares but doesn’t move, whatever Louis is trying to communicate lost on him. 

Zayn stands and stretches and holds out his hand to the boy, which the boy takes after a moment’s hesitation. Louis watches with another pang of jealousy as Zayn leads the boy right past him into their bedroom and motions to the bed. It’ll be a squeeze with three of them on it but it is what it is.

The boy looks uncertainly at Zayn and at the bed and then gingerly lowers himself onto the far side. The room is already dark, candle long ago blown out, and in the darkness Louis can make out the boy’s form as he stiffly lays on his side, back to them, facing the wall. He’s not touched the blankets and Louis is sure he’s going to be cold like that.

“Which one of us takes the middle?” Zayn asks him, voice still soft like it was with the boy, although there’s clearly no need – he can’t hear them. 

“He’s on my side of the bed,” Louis resolutely says. “So I take the middle.” He doesn’t mention his odd attachment to the boy that’s already growing. He practically plucked him out of the sky today for godssake, he’s allowed a bit of attachment. 

Before he gets in though, he takes the raggedy old quilt from the end of the bed – his mother’s - and throws it over the boy. He climbs in and tucks the quilt over himself as well, making sure to leave enough space that he’s not touching the broad expanse of back next to him. Zayn joins on the other side with his own blanket and they lay in the darkness.

For Louis, sleep doesn’t come for a long time. He’s too caught up in the quiet whimpers rising and falling into sobs coming from the boy next to him. The boy probably tried to wait until he and Zayn were asleep, and it half worked as Zayn is snoring softly on his other side. But Louis lays until the first rays of dawn and wonders _just what happens now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it seems unlikely, because I'm writing this note in 2017 about a year after I posted this chapter, but I am still planning on continuing this! I've got a few big fics that have to come first but I promise this isn't forgotten. It's been extensively planned from the beginning, it just happened to come into my life when my life was in the middle of some big changes and it got left in the corner for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

When Zayn gently (for a change) shakes Louis awake the next morning, he’s instantly aware of the unfamiliar weight on his chest. He groggily looks down to find that their guest from the night before has one arm flung over his stomach, his face and curls nestled into Louis’s neck. He’s clearly out to the world, which is good considering how upset he had been last night.

He carefully extracts himself, and the boy doesn’t wake, just rolls over to fill the empty space. Louis moves the quilt to cover him and exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him.

Right. It doesn’t matter if the door shuts softly. The boy can’t hear.

“Eggs?” Zayn asks, already at their small hutch frying them.

“Yeah…” Louis sits down at the table, head in his hands.

“How you feeling?” Zayn asks, not looking up from his cooking.

“I’m feeling… what the fuck.” Louis shakes his head. “Just, what the fuck. How do we get into this?”

“I’m a little offended that you said ‘we’,” Zayn argues. “I’m not the one who went on the crazy whatever the fuck it was you went on last night.”

“Hunting trip,” Louis clarifies. “For brides, apparently.”

“He seems a bit too male to be a bride.”

“Yeah… I think that’s part of the problem.”

Zayn nods. “Makes sense.”

“It does?” 

“No, but nothing from last night makes sense, so we’re pretending. Here,” he places a plate in front of Louis loaded with fluffy eggs, perfectly scrambled. “Eat. Go find your fae friend.”

Louis digs in, suddenly ravenous. “You won’t leave him, right?” he asks after a few mouthfuls. “Like, put off going into town until I get back? I don’t know what we can do to help him, but waking up to an empty house might be a bad start.”

“Of course,” Zayn throws him a look that says he’s preaching to the choir. “I took you in when I found you on the streets, I think I know a few things about taking in strays.”

Louis laughs, a little mollified. “Right, how could I forget?” he downs the last of his food and pushes the plate back. “I’m going to keep the sheep close by today, it’s been awhile since they grazed right out back. Call for me if anything happens.”

He heads out back to find his sheep and prays that Niall is there.

Niall isn’t there.

Louis feels like punching someone. Someone in the shape of a blond fae named Niall. He’s here every morning when Louis arrives, and he chooses  _ this _ day of all days to skip out? This is very much not okay.

“I can see you thinking murderous thoughts.”

Louis whirls around and spots Niall laying across three of the sheep. He looks a little on the tired side, missing a bit of his normal spark.

“I was definitely considering it,” Louis concedes.

Niall slides off the sheep and comes over the Louis, sitting in the grass and motioning for him to take a seat as well. “You made my life hell last night,” he tells him.

“Well mine wasn’t a lot better,” Louis argues. “What the fuck happened?”

“Nessa wanted me kicked out of court. Seemed to forget that I’m the  _ older _ brother anyway; the one with actual claim to the throne and a perfectly happy and stable relationship with someone I didn’t steal from a castle in Scotland.” 

_ “Scotland?” _ Louis asks, shocked. “We were all the way in Scotland?”

Niall nods. “Probably part of the reason why that boy she picked up was so freaked out. At least anyone in Ireland would know who we were. But the point is we got into a major fight and she trashed the ballroom where the party for the newlyweds was going on, and now refuses to leave her room.” He shakes his head. “She’s a mess. But more importantly, she cursed your boy and I can’t convince her to take it back.”

“Is that… is that why he can’t hear?”

Niall nods sadly. “’Fraid so. A dick move if I’ve ever saw one; she got jealous in the moment but didn’t know your name so she couldn’t do anything to you. A lot of power in a name, you know.”

Louis sort of wishes she did know his name. It’d all be easier if he were the deaf one, at least Zayn would be able to talk to the boy then.

“So… what can we do about it then?” Louis asks, feeling helpless. “I can’t get him back wherever he came from if I don’t know the first thing about him.”

Niall shrugs a little helplessly. “Until I can convince Nessa to undo that curse, I don’t know much that can be done.” He looks very apologetic about it, like a kicked puppy. “I swear I didn’t know she’d do that, I would never have taken you on such a disaster of a trip.”

Louis sighs. “It’s fine,” he says. “I mean, I’m glad I was there. At least the guy isn’t stuck with her – no offence.”

Niall laughs. “None taken, I wouldn’t wish her upon any human.”

“Aren’t you supposed to defend her?” Louis teases. “She’s your sister!”

“Yeah, and she did something dumb,” Niall exclaims. “I’m not just gonna let her get away with stuff like that.”

Louis smiles. “At least I made friends with the right fairy apparently.” He ducks when Niall throws a handful of dirt at him, thankful to have lightened the mood. “Do you know anything about him though? Other than the fact that we apparently picked him up in Scotland?”

Niall lobs another handful of dirt and grass at him and shakes his head. “Nah, I wasn’t paying much attention to where we were last night, but from what I could tell there were a ton of people at that castle. He could have been a servant, kitchen worker, anybody.”

“Well that’s entirely unhelpful,” Louis mutters, more to himself than anyone. A kitchen helper though; he’s not going to lie, that sounds pretty nice. Maybe have the chance of eating something besides eggs and stew at some point.

“You know how to make any fancy dishes?” he asks Niall.

“Yeah, but they all have alcohol in them. Unless you’re looking to drink your way through every meal, I’m not the person to talk to here.”

Ah, Louis somehow isn’t surprised at that one.

— 

Louis brings the sheep in a little early (or a lot early) because he desperately wants to know what’s happened with Zayn and the boy while he was gone.

When he nears, he can see someone sitting on the back steps. He can somewhat make out the chestnut curls of their guest. He’s holding a mug between his fingers and seems to just be sitting watching the grass grow. Once Louis draws nearer, though, the boy looks up and locks eyes with him for a moment before quickly getting up and turning indoors.

Louis sighs to himself. It’s not like he expected a warm greeting, but he’s pretty sure that the boy just actively ran from him, and that’s not a good sign.

When he gets inside, he sees Zayn and the boy seated next to one another on the bench at the table. Zayn looks up and waves to him, but the boy ducks his head lower over his drink, whatever it is steaming up his face.

“He’s still a little scared,” Zayn says, motioning for Louis to sit down. “But he’s getting used to things, I think.”

Louis walks over to join them and hopes that there’s more of whatever the boy is drinking. The second he sits down though, the boy stumbles up and runs for the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

Zayn sighs. Louis groans.

“Well, he  _ was _ making progress,” Zayn clarifies. “I think it’s probably because he was around me all day, but he’d stopped jumping whenever he saw me so I thought it was a good sign.”

“Sure, sure,” Louis says. “With my luck he probably thinks I was part of the kidnap party last night, and I can’t fucking do anything to make him think otherwise because he can’t  _ hear _ me,” he makes a frustrated noise and buries his head in his arms. “Niall says Nessa took away his ability to hear. And he’s from a castle in Scotland.”

“That’s far,” Zayn says, surprised. “So, what, is he royalty? He’s got hair like royalty.”

“I doubt it, Niall thinks he’s probably a servant or a cook or something. They don’t usually steal people who are well off.”

“Please think over that sentence you’ve just told me and realise how weird that sounds,” Zayn says. He rises from the table and grabs the drink that the boy had been holding. “Anyway, I’m going to bring him this. He’s been carrying it around all day, I think it’ll help.”

“Oh yeah, whatever he was drinking, is there more? It smells really good.”

Zayn shakes his head. “He heated up water and put some of the wild strawberries from the backyard in it. I don’t know where the heck he got that idea from, but if you want to make your own we’ve always got more strawberries.”

Louis moans. That’s too much work.

— 

Zayn manages to coax the boy out for dinner, and while he sits at the opposite corner to Louis and jumps a little every time Louis makes a sudden movement, it still feels like a step forward.

They share a stew that Louis started and Zayn fixed (because Louis has trouble telling the spices apart sometimes, they all look quite similar okay). Louis and Zayn talk a bit but it’s stilted. Louis just feels so  _ awkward _ speaking right in front of the boy when he can’t hear them; it feels unfair to him. They would normally go out to the pub tonight, but neither of them bring it up. It seems like they both feel like they want to be around the boy in case something happens, or he needs something.

Louis wonders if Nessa will come back, if she  _ can _ come back. He’s never seen anyone but Niall out and about before that night. He’ll have to ask later.

The back door has been left open, loosely swinging on its hinges in the breeze. The sky is just starting to turn from pink to inky black, and the air filtering in is sweet with the flowers blooming and spring winds blowing, and Louis thinks it’s a perfect night for stargazing. He tells Zayn so and Zayn gives him a fond and exasperated look.

“You think every night is a good night for stargazing.”

“Nights when it rains are horrible stargazing nights. Also, cloudy nights. This is neither. Fuck off.”

He shuffles out of his shoes and strips down to his vest and trousers because the earth is dry and the grass is soft, and leaves Zayn and the boy sitting at the table as he ventures off into the darkness.

He takes a spot where the grass is a little longer because the sheep haven’t been recently, and makes himself comfortable. A few lights have already begun to shine in the sky, and he wonders which ones they are. He knows there are names for all the stars, or at least the important ones, but back when he had the chance he hadn’t seen the point in learning. He wonders now, wonders if these are the same stars that would first appear in the sky back when he was gazing at them as a child, on his back in the Yorkshire countryside. He knows they’re the same stars in the sky, but always wonders if they move a little, dance around one another while the sun is up and he can’t see them.

He lays there until the sky is completely black and covered with stars as if God spilled a bag of sugar across the sky. He spots the one constellation he knows; Orion’s Belt, his mother said it was. He was too young to concentrate on the complex constellations, but he could always find the three that made up the belt, shining brightly and attached at the hip. It’s really the only reason he knows that stars move at all; because sometimes he can’t find it.

Complacent baa-ing comes from where the sheep are penned up behind the house, and over that noise Louis hears the shuffle of feet through the grass. He stretches his neck and looks behind himself, the cottage upside down in his vision from where he’s laying in the grass. The boy is there, curly hair blowing around his shoulders as he seats himself in the grass a few feet from the door, far from Louis but still outside. Did he follow Louis out here?

The boy blinks at him a couple times, and Louis can’t quite tell his expression from this far away, but it doesn’t seem scared, just calm like the night around them. The boy shifts his gaze up to the sky, and a moment later Louis does the same.

Maybe they all need to be reminded sometimes that they’re looking at the same sky.

— 

When Louis comes in a the end of the night, he notices Curly following him at a distance. Louis can spend hours stargazing if he gets into it enough, so he’s not surprised to find Zayn has already gone to sleep, taking up half of the bed that now has to fit three of them. Louis shakes his head, knowing this relegates him to the middle spot, pretty much forever. He strips down into his vest and pants and belatedly realises that Curly doesn’t have more than the clothes on his back. God, how long was he going to wear those clothes if Louis didn’t notice?

He shuffles through the boudoir to find something of Zayn’s, because Curly definitely isn’t the same size Louis is. Grabbing some clothes that he’s pretty sure are clean, he ducks his head out of the bedroom to find him. Locating him around the corner of the kitchen sink, rinsing the cup he had brought outside, Louis tosses the clothes in Curly’s direction and gives the boy points for startling only a little when the clothes land, prospectively, on his head and shoulder. Curly turns and, with those wide doe eyes of his, locks his gaze with Louis, who motions first to his own choice of sleep wear, and then motions behind him to the bedroom. He doesn’t want to see the boy’s reaction, hoping this will keep him from freaking out about it and retreats into the dark bedroom behind him. He climbs into the bed and tucks himself up back-to-back against Zayn, hoping he’s left a welcoming amount of room for Curly if he chooses to join them.

Eventually, the room is plunged from semi-darkness into total darkness as Curly blows out the candle lit on the table in the outer room. Soft footsteps pad across the house and hesitate momentarily in front of the empty side of the bed. Louis squints his eyes shut and tries to even his breathing, feigning sleep.

It’s different, somehow, from last night when everything felt like a crumbling disaster that Louis was trying to keep together. Tonight feels slower and purposeful, as Louis lays and waits patiently for the boy to decide his next move.

Louis lays there in the darkness for so long, keeping his breathing even so as to not startle Curly, that he’s nearly dropped off to sleep himself by the time that the bed dips in front of him.

Zayn’s taken up so much space on the bed that it feels like there’s a ghost of a space between Louis and the boy who’s settling down in front of him, and Louis freezes up, worried about accidentally relaxing too much and crowding in on his space.

But then the boy shifts and stretches and lets out a silent breath, and Louis finds their feet are touching, if only just barely.

Which isn’t a lot, but it’s coming from the boy who ran from him even just earlier that day, so in some ways it’s everything.

And when Louis drops off to sleep, he has high hopes for more progress the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> [LondonFoginaCup](londonfoginacup.tumblr.com) on tumblr, please come say hi! And the post for this fic is [here](http://londonfoginacup.tumblr.com/post/141576968644/whispers-the-wind) if you feel inclined to reblog it!


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